Even after they left, I still struggled to breathe. Ian eventually dropped the interrogation, but the tension never left his face. He was suspicious. Bothered.
Which is why I'm dreading clocking out.
He's my ride home.
I wouldn't dare ask Gray instead—that would only make things worse. Camilla would've been an escape route if she hadn't clocked out before me, leaving me to my fate.
And my fate is currently parked outside.
I can't see Ian through the window, but I know he's there. Watching. Burning holes into my skin with nothing but suspicion and overprotective brother energy.
I sigh, punching in my employee number at the register. My fingers feel heavier than usual.
"See ya later, Marsha," I mumble.
"Bye, girly!" She beams at me, her warmth a stark contrast to the storm waiting outside. I soak in the last bit of positivity while I can—because I know the second that car door opens, it's gone.
It takes everything in me to push through the doors.
My heart pounds with every step toward Ian's car. Not because I don't know what he'll say—I do. It's how I'll respond that makes my stomach twist.
Gray handled it so easily, his reaction smooth, controlled. Almost too convincing.
He's a little too good at gaslighting.
I'll worry about that later.
Right now, I just have to survive the ride home.
I force slow, steady breaths as I approach the car. My fingers wrap around the handle. My breathing halts completely as I pull the door open—
The usual blast of cold air greets me, yet the car isn't on.
I slide into the passenger seat, the door clicking shut with a finality that sends a shiver down my spine.
Ian doesn't start the car right away.
He just sits there, hands gripping the wheel, eyes fixed straight ahead. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. The air between us feels different—charged, uneasy.
I shift in my seat, clearing my throat. "Are we—"
"You and Gray."
His voice is steady. Too steady. Like he's forcing himself to stay calm.
I blink, caught off guard by the directness. "What about us?"
Ian exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face before turning to me. His gaze is sharp, searching.
"Don't do that," he says.
"Do what?"
"Act like I'm just imagining things." His jaw tenses. "I know Gray. I know how he is. And I know when something's off."
I force a laugh, hoping it masks the way my stomach twists. "Nothing's off, Ian. You're overthinking."
His expression doesn't budge.
"I saw the way he looked at you, Leo," he says, quieter this time. "And I saw the way you looked at him."
My throat tightens.
I glance toward the window, pretending to be fascinated by absolutely nothing. "We were just messing around. You're reading into it too much."
Ian doesn't respond right away, and for a second, I think I might've dodged the worst of it.
YOU ARE READING
Tangled- No Strings Attached?
RomanceLeo- she has given up on love, and Gray wants nothing to do with it. Yet, despite their resolve, the undeniable pull between them is impossible to ignore. So, they make a pact-an arrangement free of emotions, just desire with no strings attached. It...
